‘Why don’t you stop gawking and get me some breakfast?’ Billi wore an old T-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms. She grabbed a sweater and added that, uncomfortably aware of his presence. She slipped her feet into her trainers and went over to the table while Kay crossed the lounge to the kitchenette. He fumbled around in a cupboard and began putting out the butter and plates. He was all fingers and thumbs, spilling the milk and burning the toast.
‘Dad and Elaine?’ she asked.
‘Still in bed.’ Kay almost dropped the bowl. ‘Separately. Obviously.’
She took a plate off him. ‘Obviously.’
Kay mixed up a bowl of muesli with a thick heavy spoonful of honey, then pushed it over to her.
‘My favourite. Now how on earth did you know?’
Kay ignored her taunt. ‘What’s next?’
Billi took a mouthful. If nothing else Kay mixed a mean muesli. ‘No idea. But I’m sure Dad’ll have a plan. And knowing him it’ll probably be insanely dangerous.’
Billi glanced at her dad’s door. ‘What I don’t understand is why it hasn’t affected me. The tenth plague. I’m a firstborn.’
‘Michael wouldn’t have wanted to give the game away by infecting you. I would have seen it.’ Kay’s fingers curled into a fist. ‘But I’ve marked him, Billi. I know what he’s made of.’
‘What?’
‘What’s for breakfast?’ asked Elaine as she came out of the spare room. She held a cigarette between her fingers and switched on the gas hob. She slowly rotated the end of the cigarette until it caught light and then took a long, deep drag. ‘Better.’
Arthur’s door creaked open.
‘Morning.’ He shuffled to the table and sat. He looked better, but not by much. There was a tinge of colour in his cheeks, and his eyes didn’t look as sunken as they had been, but his jeans and tatty green jumper looked two sizes too big and hung loose over his frame.
He looks so feeble, Billi thought. A strong breeze would knock him down.
Eggs came out of the fridge and were soon frying with mushrooms, onions and a spoonful of chilli. The teas were poured out when Elaine cleared her throat.
‘What’s the plan, boss?’
‘Simple. We regroup and take the fight to Michael.’
Billi rolled her eyes. What a bloody surprise. She looked around the table. Didn’t they get it? There was no way of defeating Michael. This was suicide.
She had to get them to see sense. ‘I think -’
‘We know what you think,’ snapped her father.
‘Have some sense, Dad!’ Billi bolted to her feet. ‘We don’t know if the others are even alive!’
‘Oh, they’re alive,’ said Kay. Everyone turned to him. He shrugged. ‘To draw something out of a person’s mind you need to open your own.’ He pointed at Arthur’s forehead. ‘When Michael was trying to open yours I entered his. He’d hoped to take us out first, then sweep up the others. Big mistake.’
‘Well done, Kay!’ Arthur slapped his palm on the table, his old strength suddenly returning as he sensed the battle turning in his favour. ‘I’m proud of you.’
He might as well have kicked Billi in the guts.
I’m proud of you.
Of you.
Her dad never spoke to her like that.
Hadn’t she done anything he’d been proud of? No. As far as Arthur was concerned if she wasn’t a Templar she wasn’t anything.
I’m proud of you.
Billi reached the door. Her heart shrivelled with misery, but she quashed that. She wasn’t going to go to pieces. Instead blackness swelled and that filled her heart now.
I’m proud of you.
He’d asked her if she hated him, back in the armoury. Why?
Because it would be easier if she did. Easier for him.
She meant nothing to him.
‘Billi?’ started Kay.
She slammed the door behind her.
22
Billi ran. She ran down Stoke Newington Church Street. Past the dustmen loading up their lorry, past the old Sikh arranging fruit outside his grocery shop, past the office workers at the bus stop. Billi’s feet hardly touched the ground and her rage wouldn’t let her stop. The gates of Clissold Park stood open and the park beyond was carpeted in a low, white mist. Billi ran in. She didn’t care where, just away.
I’m proud of you.
She couldn’t get it out of her mind, the way her dad had smiled. At Kay.
Oh, yes. She should have known; Kay was the Oracle after all. He was important. And she? What was she?
She wasn’t a Templar.
Billi barged past two joggers in their Day-Glo Lycra outfits, and overtook a trio of nannies with their designer prams and designer babies. The west exit on to Green Lane suddenly appeared ahead out of the mist, mere metres away.
As did Kay.
Billi was almost on top of him when she realized he was there. He raised his hand and smiled and found himself lying on the dewy grass, groaning and clutching his face. Billi stood over him, the knuckles on her right fist hot and bruised.
‘What the hell d’you do that for?’ he cried.
Would Arthur be so proud of him now? She wanted Kay to be angry, to get up and fight. Just so she could smash him in the other eye.
Some Templar.
She nudged him with her foot. ‘Get up.’ He didn’t respond. She kicked him.
‘Ow!’
‘Just get up.’
The three nannies passed by, giving Billi long sideways glances, no doubt memorizing her face in case of a police line-up later.
‘What the hell are you looking at?’ she shouted, then slumped down on a bench, her fists still tightly clenched, struggling to get her rage under control. But all she could see was everyone praising and adoring Kay. Marvellous Kay.
It wasn’t his fault, though. Not really. She tried hard to believe it, but the urge to punch his pasty white face in remained incredibly strong.
She had to take it out on someone!
She lowered her hands and stared at the ground. And at Kay’s boots.
‘Why?’
He shuffled, perhaps wary of a second attack. ‘Why what?’
‘Why did you come after me? You always do. Like some…’
‘Guardian angel?’ Kay suggested.
‘Like some stalker.’
Kay laughed and the bench creaked as he sat beside her. He’d lowered his hands and Billi could see the dark purple swelling around his left eye. It was going to be a big, fat, ugly bruise.
Really big.
‘Sorry,’ she said.
Kay sat very close beside her, but for some reason she didn’t feel like moving away. She looked at him sideways. He was actually quite good looking, in that malnourished indie pop-star kind of way. Kay watched the magpies flutter from the bare branches to search among the damp soil. Those bright eyes took in everything; he seemed to be amazed by it all. There was that secret smile again, that one of seeing things Billi wished she could see, just once.
‘Looks like it’s clearing,’ said Kay. The mist had evaporated, leaving only wispy tendrils stubbornly clinging to the ground and the morning sun was bright in the sharp blue sky.
‘Why do you think my dad’s like that?’ She couldn’t bring herself to ask what she really wanted.
Why doesn’t he love me?
‘You’re wrong about your father.’
‘You know that? For certain?’
Kay held up his hand, blotting the sun from his face. ‘Have you ever stared straight into the sun, Billi?’
‘Yes. So?’
‘It hurts. Sometimes brightness can be painful. Sometimes we need to live in the shadow, to protect ourselves.’
Billi frowned. ‘And what’s that, in English?’
He moved closer. His voice was quiet and Billi could feel his breath move in and out, gently caressing her cheek. His hand touched the side of hers and she sat very still. She waited, heart pounding, part of her telling herself this was just Kay, the boy she’d grown up with.